Racing The Clock: My Greatest Fear As An Artist

For most of my life, drawing sat quietly in the background. It was something I loved as a child, something I studied in college, and something I always intended to return to someday. Like many people, life had other plans. Careers, responsibilities, raising a family, and the everyday demands of adulthood pushed art further and further down the priority list.

Now, decades later, I’ve found my way back to drawing. In many ways, this should be a happy story. I’m creating again, learning again, and challenging myself with projects I never would have attempted years ago. Yet beneath the excitement lurks a fear that I rarely talk about.

My biggest artistic fear isn’t criticism. It isn’t failure. It isn’t even the possibility that I’ll never make a living from my artwork.

My biggest fear is time.

As someone over sixty, I’m becoming more aware of the physical realities that come with age. My eyesight isn’t as sharp as it once was. I take a little more time focusing on small details. That hand-eye coordination gets trickier the smaller the canvas. My sweet spot drawing size is 16”x20” and up, anything less has me constantly blinking and re-focusing my eyes.

Sometimes my hands cramp after long drawing sessions or in the middle of drawing sessions. From time to time I have experienced a tingling sensation that runs the length of my pinky down to my arm. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it concerns me a little. Am I on the path where simply holding a drawing tool will be out of the question?

My constant “hunched over” posture is a concern as well. Hours spent in drawing mode is terrible on my already fragile back. If I sit too long my foot falls asleep....do I need to go on?

There are days my body reminds me that it has been carrying me around for more than six decades. When I sit down to work on a drawing, I sometimes wonder if I waited too long to return to my first love.

Did I spend too many years away from the craft?

Would I be further along if I had continued drawing throughout my twenties, thirties, and forties? Of course I would but there must be a reason I strayed. A reason I packed up my art supplies and buried it away from everyone, including myself. There’s also a reason I’ve dug them out now,…at this moment.

Most importantly, do I have enough time left to become the artist I want to be?

Those questions can be difficult to answer because art is one of those pursuits where improvement never really ends. Every drawing teaches me something new. Every completed piece reveals weaknesses I want to strengthen and skills I want to develop. The more I learn, the more I realize how much there is still to discover.

Sometimes that realization feels inspiring. Sometimes it feels terrifying.

There are moments when I look at the work of artists who have spent decades refining their craft and wonder if I can ever catch up. Not because I lack the desire or the willingness to work, but because the clock seems louder now than it did when I was twenty.

Yet when I step back and think about it, I realize something important. The alternative to starting late would have been never starting at all.

The years I spent away from drawing are gone. I can’t reclaim them. What I can do is make the most of the time I have now. Every drawing completed is one more than I would have created had I allowed fear to keep me from picking up a pencil again.

Maybe the goal isn’t to become the artist I could have been if I had never stopped. Maybe the goal is to become the best artist I can be from this point forward.

That thought doesn’t completely erase the fear. I still worry about my eyesight. I still worry about my hands. I still wonder if time is slipping away faster than I’d like.

But those worries have also given me a new appreciation for every hour I spend creating. They remind me that every drawing matters. Every finished piece is a victory. Every new skill learned is progress.

And perhaps that’s the real lesson.

The clock is ticking for all of us, regardless of age. The difference is that now I can hear it. Instead of letting that sound discourage me, I’m trying to let it motivate me to draw, learn, and create while I can. Because the greatest regret wouldn’t be starting late. It would be not starting again at all.

Did you know I have I have prints! Take a look at Whimsical Eyes!